Life's Little Parables

Hasbro Clue Game:  1998 version

Was it Miss Scarlet in the Library with the Revolver?  No!  It was Miss Lynnae in Savannah with Neglect.

Each Spring I am filled with a masterful delusion that leads to my serial killings.   I walk down aisles upon aisles of colorful flowers, fragrant herbs, and beautiful young trees.  My head fills with visions of grandeur.  This will be the year I will do it!  I will be a master gardener with luscious fruits, delicious herbs, and a bountiful garden.  My plenty will be abundant, and my garden will be one of greatness.

I carefully select my victims, as they scream for mercy, "Not me!  Pick that one!  Please!  What have I done to deserve this wretched fate?" I chuckle mercilessly as I place them in my (shopping cart or buggy, you decide).  I coo to them, "Didn't you hear me?  This will be the year!"  To this they pathetically reply, "Yes, the year I will die by your hand."  I take my victims home and survey my yard.  My yard is unchanged, it doesn't have good light, soil, or a place where my victims will not be tromped on by dogs and kids.  I think to myself, "Ah, this random spot here might work.  Yes, I haven't tried a victim here yet!  Quick, randomly dig and plop my destined victim in the ground."

I water my victim, talk to my victim, but never name my victim.  That would be much too heartless!  For the next few glorious springtime weeks, I attend to my victims, proud of myself, sure that this will be the year that I will reform.  Then, the brutal Savannah heat begins, bugs overwhelm me and the springtime showers dry up.  The attention I showered on my victim wanes, and nature takes over.  The lack of water, love, and immense, brutal heat dry up my victims to a crunchy, brown mass.  I feel a sense of remorse as I realize I have struck yet again.  Another victim, dead by my lack of attention, a crumbly heap that would never serve as my amazing masterpiece.  I totaled up the number of victims killed by me over the last 6 years.  The total is no less than 36 and probably much higher as I'm positive there are victims I can no longer remember!  What could have changed this sad outcome?  What could make my victims success stories instead of just another number in my line of killings?

I have a friend who diligently plants a garden each year.  She prepares her soil, and waters her plants (yes, I must refer to hers as plants, not victims) daily.  If she goes on vacation, she even arranges to have someone come and water her plants or pick the fruits and veggies while she's gone.  (What a novel idea!)  Her plants bloom, grow and produce beautifully.  She even has some to give away she gets such a nice crop!  She endures the heat, bugs and drought and receives bounteously in return.

James 5:11 states, "Behold, we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy."  After my friend endures, she can happily look at her bounty and even share with others.  I don't endure, which leads to sad, shriveled up victims.   I've discovered that my life and testimony of the Lord are much the same way.  My testimony, like the plants, can grow and flourish if I provide it with the essential nutrients it needs such as reading scriptures, attending church, praying, and serving others.  If I don't give these essentials to my testimony, it may shrivel in the brutal heat of this world.  I hope to continue giving my testimony the nutrients it needs so it doesn't become just another nameless victim of carelessness!

My Buddy, Cooper

I have a confession.  You know how moms aren't supposed to pick favorites?  Well, I have a most definite favorite!  Before I can delve deeper into my confession, you need to know a few things.  I got my first dog, Cooper, shortly after Marvelous Matthew and I started dating.  Over the next two years, my dog family grew by one with Cheyenne.  Next, I acquired Marvelous Matthew as a husband.  Two weeks after we were married, I received an e-mail from a friend who worked with a dog rescue saying that they were looking for a foster home for a dog that would be put to sleep within 24 hrs if they couldn't find a place for her.  I called Marvelous Matthew and absolutely assured him we would only be temporary fosters for that dog.  Well, 8 years later, she's still part of the family and that's how Shadow joined us.  (Yes, Marvelous Mathew has never let me fully live that one down).  Finally,  two children have rounded out my family.   All three of my dogs are fairly big, each weighing in around 85 lbs., and I didn't listen to all the naysayers who told me while I was pregnant about how my dingos were going to eat my babies!     My kids have a good amount of respect for the dogs (even though they adore giving them "crowns", "jewelery", and any amount of bling they can get their hands on to adorn the dogs).  Overall, it's been a really good experience having dogs and kids.

Ok, I hear you, "blah, blah, blah, come on!  Tell me what your confession is!  What dirt can I dig up on you!"  Well, here it goes.  Cooper is my absolutely favorite dog.  I hang my head in shame a bit each time I admit it because, as I said before, moms aren't supposed to have favorites.  However, it's the truth.  It isn't that I don't love my other two dogs, but Cooper basically worships the ground I walk on!  How many of you have a guy who, no matter what you do, perfectly adores and worships you?  For 12 years he has endured countless moves, and many life changes.  No matter what life curves I've thrown at him, he still looks at me with absolute, unabashed love!  He follows me around the house, and always has to know where I am!  He is almost always within arms reach for me!  He just rolls his eyes at me when I pull his jowls out to make him look like a King Cobra (he has a lot of loose skin, so he is not harmed in any way during his cross-species training exercises).  He has what I refer to as "First Dog Syndrome".  The sky is the limit with the tricks he knows!  He knows how to dance in a circle for his treat, and play dead when I "shoot" him with my finger and say, "Bang!"  My other two dogs know how to sit and that's the extent of their tricks.  The funny thing is, if you ask just about any adult who is acquainted with all three of my dogs, almost without fail they will each tell you that Coop is their favorite dog too!  He's simply a great dog.

He hasn't always been so great.  Cooper came into my care when he was about 5 months old.  I do not know his history prior to that time, but I do know it couldn't have been good.  I had been scouting around for a dog, and one of my roommates came home one day.  She brought with her the news that one of her co-workers had a 45 lbs puppy show up under his deck and wanted to know if there was anyone who wanted the dog.  I met Cooper the next day.  The only good thing that could be said about him at that time was that he wasn't horribly underweight, but he was terrified of EVERYTHING.  He was scared to go outside, and scared to come back inside.  He would tremble all over if you came close to him, and howl if you left the room.  To look at him, all you could really see was a train wreck of a dog!  He was so messed up.

No matter how messed up he was at the time, I could feel that there was more to him than just his psychotic-ness!  I worked with him, loved him, and made him feel safe.   Cooper started trusting me more and more.  I've never done anything to break that trust.   He's truly been a good buddy for all these years.  He's come so far from where he was, a broken down puppy with no hope, to everyone's favorite dog.

I've found in life that there are many times I feel pretty broken down myself.  Life can get perfectly terrifying sometimes, and I don't know which way to turn.  However, I've also found that as I trust in the Lord, He never does anything to break that trust.  He works with me, loves me, and leads me to safety.  In Isaiah 26 were told, "Trust ye in the Lord for ever: for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength."  As I put my trust in Him, He helps me to become all that I can be.   He knows how much more there is to me that just my "psychotic-ness."  He knows that He can change me from feeling broken, to someone who has great strength, if I will let Him.  He know precisely how far I can go!